


Hurt and Comfort in Starfleet: Prime Ingredient

by PenPatronusAooO



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Epic Bromance, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Bones, Hurt McCoy, Hurt/Comfort, Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Spock Friendship, Male Friendship, Mind Meld, Post-Star Trek (2009), Protective Kirk, Protective Spock, Star Trek - Freeform, Team Feels, Team as Family, The Empath, Triumvirate, Vulcan Mind Melds, Whump, Worried Kirk, Worried Spock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 11:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12387375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenPatronusAooO/pseuds/PenPatronusAooO
Summary: "The Empath" happens in the alternate timeline BEFORE McCoy is cured of xenopolycythemia.





	Hurt and Comfort in Starfleet: Prime Ingredient

**Author's Note:**

> This story assumes that the reader has seen the episode "The Empath" (season 3 of the original series), and it re-tells the major plot points without showing every moment or repeating the dialogue word-by-word.

In the days that followed, Ambassador Spock regretted his decision to ignore the message from the  _Enterprise_  in favor of his morning routine. He began the day like every other since settling on New Vulcan. He stretched, dressed, ate a lite breakfast and meditated. A curious sensation interrupted his second hour of meditation. Several minutes passed before he categorized the sensation as emotional pain and identified its source as external to himself. Through his telepathic faculties, whether on purpose or not, someone precious to him communicated distress.

Spock opened his eyes and lowered his intertwined fingers. "Computer," he called as he rose to his bare feet and crossed to his desk. "Display new message."

Jim Kirk's young face appeared on the small view screen attached to the white stone wall. "Spock." The captain greeted him with a curt nod and a grim smile. "I know you've vowed to leave us to our destinies but I'm hoping this is one of those times you might make an exception. I need your help. Bones needs your help."

Spock leaned forward in his chair. Premature crow's feet had bloomed from the corners of Jim's bright blue eyes. He'd had aged much during the first half of his first five-year mission. The man was barely in his thirties but looked like he would turn 50 in a week.

"McCoy is sick." Water appeared in Jim's eyes. "Really sick. Xenopolycythemia. He has a year to live—just told me about it today. Spock I'm—I'm devastated. There's no cure, at least not one that we know of. I thought that maybe you…" Jim gulped and blinked away the tears. "Is this how it happens? Is this how I lose him?" Jim asked the question so quietly that Spock wondered who he was really talking to. "Maybe it is. Maybe this is how Bones dies but…" Kirk sighed. He rubbed his eyes with trembling fingers. "I can't do this without him. Some days I only have the courage to command this starship because Spock and McCoy are with me."

Affection for both Kirk and McCoy clogged Spock's throat. "It will be all right, Jim," Spock told the deaf image of his friend. "You will find Yonada. You will find the cure soon."

On the screen, the voice of Uhura summoned Kirk to the bridge. "I'm on my way, Lieutenant," he told her before returning to his attention to Spock. "I have to go. It's the middle of the night on New Vulcan so I might be off the ship by the time you get this message. We're evacuating a research team in the Minara system. Hope to hear from you soon, Spock. Kirk out."

Jim's face disappeared but Spock continued to stare at the screen. "Minara," he murmured. This time the emotional distress he felt was clearly his own. Distress triggered by that one word. Memory recall had slowed in his old age, so it took the Vulcan an entire 4.6 seconds to recall the Minara mission. The dead scientists, the underground prison, the mute empath that McCoy named Gem…

"Computer, priority one call to the  _Enterprise_ ," Spock ordered. Blinking lights warned him that the ship was almost out of range. A minute later the blurry, pixelated image of the  _Enterprise_  bridge appeared.

"Mr. Spock!" gasped a grinning Montgomery Scott from the captain's chair. "Isn't this a pleasant surprise! I'm afraid your doppelganger isn't here—"

"Mr. Scott," Spock all but barked, "status, please."

"Um…" Scotty scratched the back of his head with both hands. "With all due respect, Sir, I'm not sure you're authorized to hear classified intel about—"

"Jim informed me that the  _Enterprise_  was going to Minara. Is that your current location?"

"Aye, but—"

"Has the landing party disembarked?"

"Aye. The captain, Commander Spock, and Doctor McCoy are on the surface, but—"

"Retrieve them immediately, Mr. Scott."

"What?" Scotty shared a doubtful look with Uhura. "Why? What's wrong?"

"Mr. Scott, please listen, I beg of you. Beam the landing party back to the ship right now."

"I—I can't," Scotty sputtered. "There's a hell of a solar storm in this system, Sir. Our instruments won't work properly if we get too close to the radiation."

Spock arranged his fingers in a steeple. With his elbows on the desk and his nose pressed close to the screen, only his blazing eyes were visible to Scotty and the crew. "Mr. Scott, you must try. Kirk, McCoy and Spock are being held prisoner in an underground chamber by beings called Vians. If you do not save them before the Vians begin their tortures, McCoy will surely die."

"What?" Sulu gasped.

Uhura got to her feet. "Torture?"

"Dr. McCoy has not yet informed you that he grievously ill," Spock explained. "In my timeline he was cured before the Minara mission. If he undergoes the same events in his weakened condition, he will be lost before Gem or anyone else can help him."

"Bloody—" Scotty began.

"I will procure a vessel and intercept the  _Enterprise_  as quickly as possible. I urge you again:  _hurry_." Spock broke the connection as Scotty began to swear in earnest.

* * *

The dizzy spell sent the room spinning in one direction and Leonard McCoy's head in the opposite. He spotted the orange color of the Vians' winged bench and stumbled towards it. Spock called his name but McCoy couldn't risk breaking his concentration to reply. At some point he collapsed to his knees. Callous hands snatched his medical tricorder away. The instrument's whirling chirps preceded a hitched breath. "Doctor, your vital signs are highly irregular," Spock said. "This is exceptionally inconvenient."

"I'm terribly sorry, Spock," McCoy grunted as he rolled his eyes. "Anybody ever mention you have a lousy bedside manner?"

"The captain has been missing for an hour and we have yet to escape."

"And you're worried. I know." McCoy gathered his strength and braced one boot beneath him.

Spock pursed his lips and drew a breath slowly into and out of his nostrils. "As you well know, Vulcans are fully capable of mastering anxiety—"

"Spock…" McCoy waved his hand like he was shooing away a housefly. "I've known you long enough to recognize the difference between mastering anxiety and masking it. You, my friend, for all your abilities, are incapable of either when Jim's life is in danger. One of these days you've got to let me treat your PTSD." McCoy tried and failed to get his other leg beneath him. His ankle rolled. Mute drums pounded behind his eyes. Spock's grip around his forearm felt abnormally hot.

More chirps as the tricorder scanned again. The Vulcan's face flexed into one solid frown. "Dr. McCoy, since you have sustained no injury here and have contracted no disease, I can only conclude that you were unfit for duty before our party landed."

"I'm just tired, Spock," McCoy sighed. "Now help me up, will you?"

Spock complied, hefting Bones to his feet, but didn't drop the subject. "Is Captain Kirk aware that you are ill?"

"I'm not—"

"The readings do not lie, Doctor. And you cannot lie to me."

Bones cocked his chin. "Oh, really?"

Spock lifted an eyebrow. "As you pointed out, we have known one another for a significant amount of time."

McCoy squinted, studying his friend's eyes. "I didn't want you to know," he said after a long minute. "I didn't want anyone but Jim to know until Starfleet assigned the  _Enterprise_  a new CMO—until I was due to leave. I didn't want to burden you. Any of you."

"Doctor, I really must continue my search for an exit so that we can assist Captain Kirk. Please be succinct."

McCoy's ears and cheeks reddened. "Forgive me," he spat, his words soaked in sarcasm. "You want succinct? I'll give you succinct: I have xenopolycythemia and I'll be  _dead_  in a year. How's that for succinct,  _huh_?"

To McCoy's surprise, Spock recoiled as if struck across the cheek. He froze, then. Stood completely still with rigid arms and legs. "You are dying?" he whispered. "That…That is…"

" _Inconvenient_?" McCoy mocked.

"No.  _Yes_ ," Spock quickly redacted. The Vulcan cleared his throat and stared down at his boots. "Yes, adjusting to a new Chief Medical Officer will require time and energy I have not yet rationed and in that way, yes, your death will be problematic."

"Oh, for God's sake…" McCoy rubbed both eyes with the heels of his hands. "Worst bedside manner in the fleet…"

A beat of silence, and then:

"I will be severely cognizant of your absence."

Spock said the words so fast that McCoy almost missed them. It took him several moments to comprehend the meaning. Finally, he sputtered, "You mean—you mean you'll  _miss me_?"

Spock opened his mouth to reply, but right then a light flashed through the room.

 

 

* * *

"Jim, what happened? Jim?  _Jim_!" Kirk heard McCoy's voice as if through several feet of water. The woman, the empath, her hands scurried across his body. Warm fingertips swept across his face, his neck, his hands. At one point they disappeared and through the water Jim heard Bones again. "Help him!" the doctor begged. "Please. Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid!" Shoulders… Arms… Fingers… A tingling sensation replaced the pain in the wake of Gem's touch. Finally, he was conscious enough to focus, to see her mute screams as his injuries transferred to her. Wide, raw, red contusions covered her and then faded, and she collapsed.

Bones' healer's hands grounded him. He allowed the doctor to guide him into a comfortable position on the bench. Spock stood above the scene with a blank expression but warm, wild eyes that searched Jim for additional injuries. "Will she live?" Jim croaked.

"She seems fine now." Bones explained that Kirk was suffering from the bends, that Gem was a completely functional empath who connected their nervous systems, and he went into his theories about her instinct for self-preservation. Kirk only half-listened. Slowly his body reassured him that he was all right. He expected pain when he moved but not only was there none at that moment, but the memory of it had faded as well.

McCoy's posture was Jim's first clue. The doctor sat hunched over on the bench beside him and upon closer inspection, Kirk realized that Bones' face was extremely pale. " _Bones_." He grasped his friend's upper arm and flinched when he winced. "Bones, you don't look so good." He glanced at Spock and then bit his lower lip in thought. "Did, uh, did the Vians hurt you?"

McCoy gave Kirk a grateful smile. "I appreciate you guarding my privacy, Jim, but I already told Spock. Superior officers should be informed about the condition of every member of a landing party… or some crap like that."

Jim kept his hand on McCoy but rotated his head to look at Spock. "This was supposed to be a simple evacuation. I wouldn't have let him come if I knew we'd be down here this long, or in this much danger."

Spock cocked his head to the side. "You are defending actions that I have not questioned, Captain. There is no need to explain your command decisions at this time. However, between your weakened condition and the doctor's, I suggest we redouble our efforts to escape this prison."

Jim gave McCoy a last squeeze and then sighed as a wave of exhaustion flowed through him. New pain surged from the right side of his abdomen and his hands went there out of habit. He didn't need Bones to scan him again to know that one of his internal organs wasn't completely back to normal. When the twoVians reappeared, Spock stepped between them and his shipmates like a guard dog. He and McCoy let Kirk do all the talking as the aliens informed them that the captain would choose who would be tortured next. They left again without saying when they'd be back, leaving the three officers in limbo.

* * *

Spock didn't react when McCoy snuck up on Kirk and emptied the hypospray into his shoulder. Jim jumped like it was an attack. As he collapsed, his wide eyes searched out Spock's. "Don't let them take him," he begged, each word a slur of vowels. "They don't know he's already sick—he won't last long under that torture; he'll die for sure… _ **Bones**_ …" As Jim's eyes rolled back into his skull he muttered one last phrase that didn't make sense to the other two men. " _Spock, old friend, help us_ …"

"Thank you," Spock said to McCoy after Jim was asleep. "I am grateful to you for sparing him additional pain."

"Pain?" McCoy said as he refilled the hypo. "That pair of walking bald heads said one of us was next, not Jim."

"It is not physical pain to which I refer, Doctor," Spock said without looking up from his study of the Vians' device. "I meant the pain it would cause the captain to choose between us. Now the decision is mine."

McCoy finished the refill and stood up. He fought through the dizziness to give Spock his fiercest glare. "The decision is obvious. Damn you for making me say this but it's  _logical_ , Spock, that I be the one to go. I'll be dead soon, anyway, so what damn difference does it make if I kick the proverbial bucket here?"

Any other time, in a less dangerous situation, the Vulcan would've wondered what kicking buckets had to do with death. Instead Spock continued to fiddle with the dials and read the symbols on a tiny screen. "You yourself reminded us that you are the inferior officer."

"Inferior? Why you green-blooded—"

"It is my duty as the superior officer to volunteer. Part of my job as a commander is to protect those in the lower ranks."

"Lower? Why you—" McCoy fisted his hands and raised his eyes to the ceiling. A few slow breaths calmed him down and he summoned all of the Spock-like rationale he had. "You'll die. It's a 93% chance that you'll die. You heard them."

"Incorrect, Doctor. There is a 93% chance that my brain will be permanently damaged. There is an 87% chance that you will die."

"Spock, you  _are_  your brain! Comatose for the rest of your life is the same as being dead!"

"Doctor, this situation is quite simple. I have stated my orders and will not be dissuaded. And you will hand that hypospray over to me right now." With incomprehensible speed, Spock turned in his seat and grabbed the hypo centimeters before it plunged into his skin.

The furious fire in his eyes stunned McCoy like a phaser. "How—how did you know I would…?" he whispered.

Spock blinked once. "I know you." Spock yanked the hypospray out of McCoy's grip and set it on the seat out of reach. "And you, Dr. McCoy, are one of the most stubborn humans I have ever—"

A whooshing sound as the hypospray emptied. Spock whirled around and found Gem standing over him with a triumphant expression. " _No_ ," he whispered. Turning back to McCoy, he saw the same triumphant look there.

"Thanks, darling," McCoy said, winking at the empath. "You read my—not my mind… but if not my mind then, what? My heart? Anyway—thank you." She blushed and smiled.

"My decision…" Spock murmured. Mirage-like ripples in the corners of his eyes migrated towards the center. He didn't feel the doctor's arms around his torso, arranging his body into a comfortable position at Kirk's side. " _No_ … Doctor, no…"

"Shhh," McCoy soothed. "You have a nice nap, Spock." As the Vulcan's eyes slid shut, McCoy leaned over Spock's frame and whispered gently into his pointed ear, "This last year of my life would've been full of pain. More pain if I let you die here, because I would be so very cognizant of your absence."

When the Vians returned, McCoy said to Gem, "My friends will take care of you."

A single tear descended when he disappeared. It wasn't fear or sadness that the empath sensed from Leonard McCoy. She wept because the love he exuded in that moment for Jim and Spock was overwhelming.

* * *

"You want to take a shuttle through the solar storm to the planet's surface?" Scotty bellowed. "You're mad, mate. Mad Hatter-mad."

Spock Prime endured the engineer's spitting words with no reaction except for flaring nostrils. "The solar radiation will cause instrument failure in any spacecraft after approximately four minutes," he said loud enough for the entire bridge crew to hear. "At top speed, the shuttlecraft can travel to the surface in 3.75 minutes."

"That's assuming it's a straight shot from point A to B, and it doesn't account for the landing sequence," said Sulu.

"Once we are within the planet's atmosphere we will be protected from the radiation. Reaching the atmosphere will only take 3.70 minutes."

"That's still cutting it mighty close," Scotty said. He sighed and stood up from the captain's chair. "But, well… I'm in. Sulu, you have the con."

"As if you can pilot the shuttle that fast without ending up in the wrong solar system." Sulu stood. "I'm in. Chekhov, you take over."

"No," the Russian declared. "I will go as well. Uhura—"

"Come on!" Uhura was already on her way to the turbolift. "Let's go!"

* * *

McCoy's entire being screamed at the universe. Every cell, every emotion, and every thought that made him Leonard McCoy was stabbed, sliced, squashed, and stretched in every direction. Like a child grabbing at an ascending balloon, McCoy reached out for memories to sustain and distract him from the torture. Remembrances began to flow through him only to be ripped away the moment they brought him pleasure: chasing the family dogs through an open field in Georgia, helping his father deliver a newborn calf, winning drinking games in dive bars to pay for medical school, his honeymoon, the first time Joanna called him "daddy," getting his medical license, playing Poker with Jim and Uhura at the Academy, watching in awe as Spock made some impossible calculation that saved the  _Enterprise_ , drinking Scotch with Scotty, teaching Chekov how to play pool, Sulu's patience as he taught Leonard how to fly a shuttlecraft, that first shore leave where he, Jim, and Spock went whitewater rafting and they all fell into the river…

Time passed. There was no way to tell how much. Eventually his daughter's face disintegrated—he couldn't remember what it looked like. He tried to imagine the texture of her hair but it was snatched away. Parts of himself were chipped off like flakes of ice. When the breaking point was within arm's reach he couldn't remember his own name…

The pain was choking the life out of his sanity.

And then some nameless force burrowed through the pain like a drill through miles of earth. What was left of Leonard McCoy welcomed it and, like a child chasing lightning bugs with a mason jar, wanted to keep the wild, untamable, fragile light forever. Something about it coaxed Leonard to wake up. It was a cushion against his cheek. It was a pair of crutches. And it was an alarm clock blaring in his ear, ordering him to get up and  _fight_ …

_Leonard_.

An accompanying voice, now. McCoy didn't remember how to talk, barely recalled existing in a body. Anything and everything was just pain. Except the voice. The voice that knew his name.

_Spock_ …?

_I am coming for you, old friend._

_It hurts. Spock, I'm tired. I'm so tired…_

_Remain strong, Doctor. Remain yourself._

* * *

 

When Kirk, Spock and Gem appeared in the Vians' lab, the captain's knees nearly buckled at the sight of his best friend hanging limply from the ceiling by his wrists. " _Bones_ ," Kirk whispered, appalled at the state of the doctor's clothes and the amount of blood. "Spock, help me." The pair moved forward as one. Jim immediately took McCoy's weight while Spock found the rope to release him. When McCoy was free of the shackles, Jim lifted his semiconscious friend into his arms, bridal-style. With Spock on his heels, Kirk carried the doctor to a nearby bench. "Oh no," Jim gasped, his fingers pressed against the inside of McCoy's wrist. "Spock, his pulse, it's almost gone."

Muscles twitched along Spock's jawline, betraying the emotions he tried to contain. The medical tricorder whirled to life in his right hand while his left gripped McCoy's arm, as if he would disappear then and there if the Vulcan didn't hold on. "Jim, his heart, lungs, circulation system, kidney, liver, spleen—everything is failing."

"We get him back to the ship," Jim thought out loud, his volume increasing with each syllable, "make for Starfleet HQ at maximum warp, find wherever they stashed Khan, get the blood for the cure—"

"No, Jim," McCoy suddenly croaked. Blue eyes blinked up at them through narrow slits. "It's too late." A thin trickle of blood raced downward from the corner of McCoy's cracked lips.

A noise halfway between a hiccup and a sob erupted from Kirk's throat. He grasped his friend's white cheeks with both palms. "Stay quiet, stay still," Jim urged. "We'll get you back to the ship soon, Bones. We'll get you home."

McCoy began to speak but a coughing fit seized him. His back arched, then propelled him upwards almost into a sitting position. Spock caught him before he fell at full speed. Supporting the back of McCoy's neck, the Vulcan gently eased the doctor back down onto the cushion and even when the coughing stopped, his hands didn't let go. Kirk forgotten, the Vians forgotten, everything else in the universe forgotten, Spock cradled McCoy in his arms and looked into his eyes—eyes that reminded him of Christopher Pike's seconds before he died…

McCoy stared back. "Would you look at that," he whispered. "You do have a good bedside manner, Spock."

The doctor had no higher praise to give. " _Leonard_." Spock's bottom lip trembled as if he was shivering from cold.

"It's ok." McCoy nodded at him, then turned his attention to Kirk. "Jim?"

Kirk took his old friend's cold hands. "I'm here."

"Is Gem here? I told her you'd watch out for her."

"Yeah, Bones." Kirk glanced back at the rest of the lab and spotted the empath huddled against an angled column. "Gem's here." At the sound of her new name, the woman looked at the threesome and revealed the tearstains on her face. She stood and approached hesitantly with the grace of someone stumbling in the dark.

"Wait, don't let her near me," Bones begged. Gem stretched out her arm between Kirk and Spock, and McCoy found the strength to wrench his hands out of the captain's grip and swat her away. "Jim, don't let her die, too."

A dozen emotions rippled through Kirk's facial expression. "If there's a chance she can save you—"

"Jim." Water seeped into McCoy's eyes and hovered there. "You know me. You  _know_  me. I'm a doctor. I save lives. I can't take a life, even if it saves my own."

"She must be allowed to act," one of the Vians called to Kirk from behind them. "She saw how each of you was willing to sacrifice his life for the other. She saw your love—the prime ingredient of the worthy. The woman must prove she is compassionate."

"She just did!" a new voice echoed throughout the chamber. Everyone turned to see five figures emerge from the darkness. Spock Prime stood at the front of the group while Uhura and Scotty covered his left and Sulu and Chekov his right.

"Spock!" Kirk gasped, shocked.

The Ambassador moved forward so fluidly that his long black robe barely swung. "You just witnessed her willingness to help the doctor, to die for him. She has proven that her people are worthy of survival."

The Vians exchanged wide-eyed looks. "Where did you come from? How did you find—"

"Your experiment is complete," Spock basically bellowed. "The doctor's death no longer serves you, so now you must prevent it."

Leonard shifted his head so that he could see the scene. "About damn time he got here," he croaked only loud enough for Kirk and the younger Spock to hear. "Tired of him…squawking in…my mind…" McCoy sighed. Another coughing fit zapped the remainder of his energy. His body went limp under Jim and Spock's hands. He frowned. His eyes dilated. "Jim… Spock… I can't see you…" The words were little more than exhales. Bones went still.

Jim grappled for his friend's wrist again. "Spock, his heart stopped!" he shouted to the elderly Vulcan.

Spock Prime straightened to his full height. His dark eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. "Heal him," he ordered the Vians. "There is one more thing you must prove. You must prove to yourselves that, like Gem, you have compassion. Prove it by healing our friend!"

The Vians hesitated. The way they looked at each other implied a telepathic conversation. Finally, the taller of the pair approached the bench and took the device back from Spock. The crew gathered around and watched, astonished, as the visible lacerations and contusions covering McCoy's body slowly faded under the alien technology. The heartbeat returned. After a full minute passed, one of the wrinkles in the Vian's forehead became more pronounced. "Speak your thoughts," Spock Prime encouraged him.

The Vian had the decency to look regretful. "I have done all that I can. Your friend's mind has retreated from the residual pain to a place I cannot reach. He is in a coma, a coma so deep that he may never wake up."

A teary-eyed, red-faced Kirk sprang forward as if to throttle the alien. He would've if young Spock hadn't wrapped his arms around his abdomen like a vice. If was the elder Spock who got him to stand down when he held his hand out, palm-side up, in a gesture to stop. "Thank you," he said with sincerity. "I will take it from here. I believe you and Gem have an urgent task of your own."

"We do indeed," said the short Vian. The aliens gestured for Gem to follow. She did, but only after leaning over McCoy's still form to place a chaste kiss on his sweaty forehead. She nodded at Kirk, smiled at both Spock's, and then followed the Vians into the shadows.

"Allow me," Ambassador Spock said when Kirk leaned over to pick up McCoy. Although the weight obviously strained him, the old Vulcan managed to scoop Leonard up into his arms. A new look appeared on his face when the doctor's cheek rested against his chest—a look resembling affection. "Remain strong, old friend," he whispered as he led the way back to the surface, and the waiting shuttle. "I will find you. Wherever you have gone, I will find you."

* * *

****Only four men inhabited the quiet, dimly-lit _Enterprise_  medbay. The staff had cleaned the comatose McCoy up, dressed him in comfortable light-blue scrubs and arranged him on a biobed with a red blanket up to his bellybutton. Jim Kirk stood on McCoy's right with his arms crossed tight against the fresh gold uniform on his chest. Commander Spock stood at the foot of the bed with his fingers laced behind his back and his shoulders sagging. Spock Prime was on the opposite side with his fingertips plastered to Leonard's face. "The Vians not only cured the tortures they inflicted upon him," Prime reported, "but the xenopolycythemia as well."

"Oh," Jim exhaled. He braced his hands against the biobed mattress and bowed his head. "Oh, thank God."

"However…" The elder Vulcan exchanged looks with the younger. "I cannot wake him up."

Jim's head snapped back up. " _What_?"

The ambassador's eyes were bloodshot, adding a green tinge to the dark pupils. "Imagine that you are hurt and alone in the dark. A voice calls to you—a voice that claims to be your friend, but it does not sound quite right. Jim, Leonard's mind is entombed in a feral state of agony, fear, and distrust. When he hears my voice he thinks I am an imposter, another one of the Vians' tricks." Prime caressed McCoy's white cheek with the back of his hand. "It's your voice he needs to hear in order to wake up. Yours and Spock's.  _His_  Spock."

Water sparkled in Jim's eyes. He opened his mouth to speak then and there, directly into his friend's ear, but then he saw Spock's posture shift in his peripheral vision. The young Vulcan leaned his weight backwards but didn't quite step away from the bed. "I have…" Spock cleared his throat and coughed against his fist. "I have never performed a Bridging of Minds."

Spock Prime pursed his lips and stared fondly at Leonard's face.

"Bridge of—What's that?" Jim asked.

"A type of mind meld," Commander Spock explained. "Instead of two minds merging, there are three."

"Three?" Jim clutched Leonard's sleeve so hard that his knuckles turned white. "You, McCoy, and me? So that, uh, he'll hear both of our voices?"

"Precisely."

Jim didn't hesitate. "Let's do it. I'm ready. Let's go." The Vulcan suddenly turned his back and began to pace across the medbay, nostrils flaring and one hand tugging on the fingers of the other. Jim pivoted so that he faced his first officer head on. "Spock, if I didn't know better, I'd say you look scared."

Half a minute passed before the commander returned to the biobed. With his eyes fixed on his twin he said, "I cannot do it. I will not."

"What?" Jim bellowed.

Spock Prime blinked. "You must," he whispered.

"Why won't you do it?" Jim demanded. "Spock?"

"I will not risk it. I will not risk  _him_."

Spock Prime left Leonard's side and walked around the biobed. "It is the only way to save McCoy."

"I saw Jim die once. Do not make me watch it again."

Jim's gaze darted back and forth between the two Vulcans. "Um, why am I dying?"

"Can you bear to watch Leonard die?" Spock Prime whispered.

Emotion erupted from Jim with the force of a volcano. "You two better start making sense or I'm going to rip your pointed ears off!" he shouted.

Both Vulcans turned to him. "Jim," the younger began, "the Bridging of Minds is risky even for Vulcans who have successfully performed it before."

"Risky even when all three minds are conscious," the elder agreed. "Risky even when all three are healthy. Leonard's mind is saturated with the memory of the Vians' tortures. When you meld with it you will feel the same pain."

"I-I don't care," Jim sputtered. "I can handle it."

"It is more than that." Commander Spock rubbed his eyes as he spoke. "Jim, this technique requires discipline I doubt I possess. For me it will be like trying to juggle all three of our minds. If I "drop" yours, or Leonard's, I could cause permanent brain damage that…" Spock forced himself to meet his captain's eyes. "Jim, it could kill you. I will not risk that. Not even for McCoy."

"Sounds like it's my choice to make," Jim said between clenched teeth. "If there's a Tribble's chance in space that it will save Bones, then let's do it."

Spock looked pleadingly at his duplicate. "You told me once that it is Jim's friendship that will define me. You urged me to remain in Starfleet so that he and I would not be deprived of each other!"

Spock Prime placed his hands on Spock and Kirk's shoulders. "What I should have said that day is that your friendship with Jim will define you, but it is your friendship with Leonard McCoy that will make you  _whole_."

Spock's eyebrows descended slightly. "I do not understand."

"You will. Come. Come here." Spock Prime moved back to McCoy with Kirk on his left and Spock on his right. "You must listen to this. Both of you. Each of the three of you has strengths. Each of you has weaknesses. Few men are fortunate enough to meet friends who compliment him so well that his weakness is balanced by the other's strength. Separately with your courage, your logic, and your passion, each of you is a decent man. Together, you are  _remarkable_." Gently, Prime placed Spock's hand on Leonard's chest with Jim's hand beside it. "You must be together, balancing each other as if you were one being. Jim the soul, Spock the mind, and McCoy—"

Spock felt the organ thumping beneath his fingertips. He closed his eyes as if in prayer.

"The heart," Jim croaked around a choked-up throat. He swallowed and blinked away the water in his eyes. "What's with you people and metaphors, huh?"

Spock Prime waited patiently for Spock to meet his eyes. "Like Jim, Leonard is so very, very precious to me," he said. "Gem knew that he was worth dying for. Jim knows. Do you?"

Right then, alarms started squawking above the biobed. Three pairs of eyes scanned the readings. Three faces paled when they understood what was happening. "Bones hates it when we fight," Jim said faintly.

Spock Prime stepped aside. "Do it now, Spock. You must do it now."

Jim held his hands up as if in surrender. "What do I do? What do you need me to do?"

Spock's fingers were already on Leonard's face. "Hold still, Jim," he begged. "Just hold still and stay with me."

Fingertips connected, and Jim felt himself disappear.

* * *

 

Spock's fingers landed against Kirk's temple like a falcon's claws on its' prey.

One moment, Jim was standing in the medbay, clutching McCoy's sleeve with both hands.

The next moment, he was standing on green grass. A river churned nearby and sunlight greeted them. Spock stood beside him. Ahead, kneeling on the ground between them and the river, was a young boy no older than eight or nine. He wore a blue shirt—a Starfleet uniform, Jim realized. And he was jabbing a needle into a doll.

"Curious," Spock whispered, his voice strained like he was fighting back a cough.

The doll had short brown hair and wore a purple gown. "Hold still, Gem," the little boy said to it. "Surgery's almost over."

"Are we… Is this…?" Jim examined his own palms. "Spock, is this real?"

"We have successfully merged with Leonard's mind, Jim. We occupy the same space as his consciousness."

"Lenny!" a new voice bellowed. A girl appeared on the opposite side of the river. She was a couple years older than the boy, and nearly a foot taller. She stamped her feet and folded her arms close to her chest. "Give me my doll back—now!" she hollered.

"You said she was sick!" the boy shouted back. "I'm playing doctor! I fixed her for you!"

The girl noticed the balls of fluff scattered across the grass. She recoiled like it was blood. "You broke my Gem! I'm telling your mom on you right now!" The girl stormed off.

"She's all better!" he called. He turned his attention back to the doll. "You won't feel pain anymore," he whispered to it.

"Jim." Kirk turned towards Spock and was surprised to see a layer of sweat on his forehead. "I have little experience with mind melds. I am unsure how long I can maintain the Bridge. We must speak to him."

Kirk looked back and forth between the Vulcan and the boy. "Talk to the kid? That's Bones' consciousness?"

Spock was dangerously close to rolling his eyes. "You know that is him," he said.

"He's a child!"

"Perhaps, in his fear, he has retreated into this version of himself because it is safe, and far away from the Vians that wounded him. Here, he feels no pain. Fortunately, because of that, neither do we." A tendon in Spock's neck vibrated. "Jim, hurry. If this takes too long, I could lose you both."

"We've only been here, what, two minutes?"

Spock shook his head. His lips were thin. "Judging by the strain in my arms, I suspect that it has been hours, Jim. Gauging time is difficult in a mind meld."

"Crap!" Kirk took a deep breath, and then approached the boy with Spock only a couple steps behind him. "Bones?" he called. When the child seemed not to hear him, he tried, "Leonard?"

Startled, the boy dropped the doll. There was enough of a hill, and enough momentum that the toy kept rolling until it toppled over the lip of the riverbed and splashed into the water. "Oh, no!" boy-Leonard gasped. "My cousin is going to kill me!" He sprinted forward, and would've dived in if Jim hadn't grabbed him around the waist.

"I have to help her!" Leonard cried, punching tiny fists against Jim's strong biceps. "I have to help them all! I'm a doctor, dammit!"

"Bones— _Bones_!" Kirk fell on his backside with the child wrapped up in his arms. "You did help, remember? Now you're the one who needs help! Bones, you're in a coma! Dammit, you're in a coma and you have to wake up— _Bones_!"

"No— _No_!" The child fought back even harder. Jim took an elbow to the Adam's apple and Spock got kicked in the ankle. "I want to stay here!"

"Geeze, I don't know what I was expecting Bones' brain to be like but…" Jim sniffed. He smelled smoke. He whirled around when he felt heat on the back of his neck. The sparse forest surrounding the river was suddenly on fire. Jim yelped and sprung backwards towards the water, and dragged Spock and McCoy with him. "Shit!" he grunted.

The kid suddenly went still in Jim's arms. "It's coming," he whispered.

Spock knelt on one knee so that he was face to face with Leonard. "What is coming?" he asked gently.

"Pain," Leonard whispered, his eyes full of water. "Danger. I've been running for it. I ran all the way back here."

The fire inched closer. It stretched to infinity in every direction but theirs. "It's not there," Jim insisted. "There's no more pain, Bones. We got you out of that lab. Even your xenopolycythemia is cured. Listen to me. You're in a coma right now, on the  _Enterprise_ , and when you wake up you won't be in pain, ok? I swear, Bones. I swear the pain is over." Child-McCoy aged before their eyes, morphing into a teenager. He relaxed in Jim's grip. "That's it, Bones," Jim whispered. "Come back to us."

The fire inched even closer. All three of them could feel the heat now. Spock situated his body in front of Leonard's so that he blocked the sight of it. "Doctor, you must wake up now. Do you understand? You must wake up."

Teenage-Leonard transformed into a young adult. The years started to pick up speed and within seconds, he was his proper age again, but still sprawled out in the grass like a child, now grasping onto Jim for dear life. "The fire's still coming," he whispered in a voice like shifting gravel.

Jim rested his chin on the doctor's shoulder. "Face the fire, Bones," he said. "You'll die if you stay here."

"I'll die out there," Bones argued. "It was xenopolycythemia yesterday, bald telepaths today, God-knows-what tomorrow. Space is disease and danger, Jim, and all I've got is my bones."

"No." Jim squeezed him. "You've got us. And if you come with us, yes, there's danger, but if you stay here, you'll die."

Another layer of sweat covered Spock's forehead, and Jim could tell that it wasn't just from the heat on his heels. "Come with us now, Leonard." The Vulcan held his hand out for Bones to take. "Make the choice."

Doctor Leonard McCoy hesitated for only a second before he clasped his friend's hand. "I choose the danger."

As if those words were some sort of magic spell, Kirk suddenly found himself back in the medbay with a terrible crick in his neck and an ache in his lower back. He immediately sat down on the side of the bed and stretched his arms out. On the other side, Spock groaned and sank to his knees. Ambassador Spock glided out of Jim's peripheral vision and with a quiet whoosh of the doors, he left the threesome alone.

"Jim…?"

Jim leapt back up to his feet. McCoy's bright eyes were open and brimming with questions. Kirk plastered his palms to his own face and rubbed his skin down to his neck. "Oh, thank—" His last word was muffled by Leonard's shirt when he hugged him.

Half a minute passed. Spock must have regained his composure because a sturdy, steady hand landed on Kirk's back and stayed there. Another cupped Leonard's chin. It trembled slightly.

No words needed to be said. The men just basked in relief, all three defined and made whole.

**The End**


End file.
